The Billionaire's Bride of Convenience(61)

What in heaven’s name was his mother thinking? It was one thing to sleep with his father, quite another to remarry him.





Hugh’s stomach tightened as he watched his mother join his father in the first row of seats and give him a kiss on the cheek.





But then he caught sight of the happy glow on her face. And he recalled what Kathryn had said to him just the other day when he complained about his father’s past behaviour.





‘You can’t really judge other people’s actions, Hugh. You don’t know what’s happened in the past to make them what they are. You do love your father, despite everything, the same way I loved my mother, despite everything. Towards the end of her life, I finally stopped being bitter and accepted her for what she was; she’s not a deliberately cruel person, just weak. It’s time you accepted what your father is, warts and all. Time you forgave him as well.’





I’ll try, Hugh thought, and immediately felt better.





‘Oh, wow!’





Russell’s admiration-filled exclamation snapped Hugh back to the present. But it wasn’t the bride Russell was gaping at. It was his own wife, who admittedly looked exquisite in a softly draped green dress which fell right to the floor. She seemed to float down the strip of red carpet which ran between the rows of seats set up on the deck.





‘Smile,’ Nicole whispered to Hugh as she drew close, then moved to one side.





Hugh smiled just as the music started up, projected from several speakers positioned around the deck. It was the traditional bridal march, a stirring number which would have stirred Hugh, even if he hadn’t at that moment been confronted with a sight which would remain emblazoned on his heart forever.





He’d always thought Kathryn beautiful. Beautiful inside and out. Today, however, she was beyond beauty. She was a Cinderella bride, wearing a dream dress, in a fairy-tale setting.





Tears pricked at his eyes as he watched her walk down the sun-drenched aisle with that wonderful composure which he’d always admired.





Hugh didn’t bother to blink the tears away, knowing that only more would come. Straight from his heart, which was overflowing with love for her—love and gratitude.





For what would his life have become if she hadn’t come along, if she hadn’t loved him the way she did?





Hugh knew that Kathryn’s love had healed him in ways he was still appreciating. He was no longer afraid of commitment, no longer drifting aimlessly in a never-ending sea. His life felt full of purpose, each day dawning with a rush of positive spirit, and pride.





Pride in himself. And her, this lovely and loving woman walking towards him.





The sight of Hugh’s shimmering eyes stripped Kathryn of her calm.





‘Oh, dear,’ she choked out under her breath.





Max shot her a sharp look. ‘If you cry, your make-up will be ruined,’ he said swiftly. ‘So will all the photographs.





‘No crying allowed,’ he went on, by then close enough for Hugh to hear. ‘This is your wedding day, the happiest day of your life. And the smartest of yours, my boy,’ he directed at Hugh as he handed the bride over to him.





Hugh smiled down at Kathryn, then turned her to face Reverend Price, who was standing behind a small podium, looking suitably serious in a dark grey suit.





‘We are gathered here today,’ the reverend started straight away, his last word totally drowned out when a helicopter suddenly swooped over them, ‘to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony,’ he added more loudly with a glare up at the sky when the helicopter returned, then hovered overhead.





The paparazzi, it seemed, had finally come to the wedding.





Hugh squeezed Kathryn’s hand. ‘Sorry about this,’ he whispered. ‘A hazard of marrying a Parkinson.’





She smiled up at him. ‘I’ll cope,’ she said, knowing that she could cope with anything, if Hugh really, truly loved her.





Which he did.





‘I know you will,’ he said smilingly. ‘But will Reverend Price?’

Both bride and groom had trouble keeping a straight face as the poor man got louder and louder in order to override the noise from above. Finally, the ceremony was over, with his proclaiming them man and wife in a decidedly hoarse voice.

‘And now,’ he practically squawked, ‘you may kiss the bride.’

Everyone started to clap when Hugh did just that. By the time his head lifted, the helicopter had flown off and everyone heard Hugh say, ‘I love you, Mrs Parkinson,’ which brought another burst of applause.

‘Nicole was right,’ Leonie told Hugh’s father with tears streaming down her face. ‘This is, indeed, a very happy day ’